#i know i shouldn't touch it. i know it's NOT MINE. THUS I KNOW NOT TO FUCKING ASK ABOUT IT????????????

[djevelbl]

My dad just came into my room to ask me if he could drink one of the small sodas I have in the fridge (haven't gotten around to watching the trsmp end event vods lmao), telling me he can replace whatever he drinks bc he has the money...

SIR. IF U CAN BUY IT URSELF THEN WHY TF ARE U ASKING IF U CAN DRINK MY SHIT. GO BUY IT FOR URSELF TOMORROW LIKE THE FUCKING REST OF US 😭😭😭

[razzle-n-dazzle]

Almost made Adam Headcanon Yandere? You need to do it!!

ᯓ★ "Cus You're Mine, All Mine." (no shit I love you!) Yandere! Adam / Reader ignore my trying a little bit of a diff format

ᯓ Yandere! Adam and regular Adam honestly have a lot of parrels, at least in my mind they do, but they also have some key differences. They're both quiet obsessive and possessive in their own rights, and they both try and hide it. Yet, while regular Adam will be the type to completely deny his habits, Yandere! Adam will be quiet proud of them. "It made you stay, no?" He would ask with a cheeky, wide spread smirk on his mask. He stood behind you, your reflects seen on the dead screen of the TV, as his hands rested on your shoulder before trailing down to wrap around your waist. You could feel the claws of his hands slowly trail down, almost like they were touching your bare skin when you knew better; They weren't, at least not in this second, and yet it still felt as intoxicating as when Adam's hands did trail on your bare skin. It was almost his way of claiming you as his, outside of fucking you, and his gentle yet firm touch always got you. Even as you swallowed down some silva that formed in your mouth out of some unquenched nerves in your stomach, you felt safe with Adam. Even if his grin, which now laid next to your face as Adam rested his chin on your vacant shoulder, was slightly unnerving as he admitted to a usually bad habit. "And if I can keep you away from everyone who would want to take you from me.." Adam's husk voice whispered in your ear, "Than I think I'm doing my fucking job right. Wouldn't you agree?"

ᯓ Yandere! Adam who just always happens to know where you'll be and is there waiting for you; Not like he stalks you, of course not (he doesn't have to do that anymore),he just always has a similar schedule! Not like it's creepy or anything, most of the time he just knows you are longing for his company (like he's longing for yours) or just wants to make sure you're safe! Which is a no brainer why Adam was currently sitting at a nearby table, watching as you and Azrael, the Angel of Death, got some smoothies at a nearby shop. Neither of you had noticed him yet, he had made sure of that. He didn't want Azrael, and his god forbidden good senses, to pick up on him as he followed you both from the court room; And he didn't want Azrael to pick up on him now. It wasn't like Adam didn't trust Azrael, he was an angel and you could be in much bigger danger (like hanging out with a demon in hell!). Yet, out of all the Angels, Adam always had an yucky feeling about Azrael; He was always rather quiet and solemn, keeping to himself, yet seemed just peachy chatting with you and hanging out with you and no one else. Public or not it just rubbed Adam the wrong way. He better not be trying anything. Everyone should see you in the light Adam does, but no one had the pleasure of taking you home other than him. And that was a fact, whether Azrael wanted to admit it or not.

ᯓ Yandere! Adam who is somehow both egoistical and yet insecure, despite all the conflicts they provide. You can tell, after being around Adam for so long, when he gets jealous of other people you hang around. He'll never out right tell you, unless someone crosses a big line, but you can always see the slight scowl or pout on his lips, even behind the mask, and you get the hint to get to his side soon. Now, it's important to clarify, you go to his side out of free will, he's not dragging you there unless someone is touching you in ways they shouldn't; And even then, Adam is only dragging you back behind him and square punching the sucker in the face for even thinking they had the privilege to touch you! Adam will shit talk the guy who tried to get close to you when you come over him, saying how he was much better for several reasons (one being that he was the original dick, and thus he would always be better than any man or women) but would oddly enough point out things you didn't notice. Such as, the way they dressed, the way they carried themselves, their tone of voice, who they kept going to, and he would go on and on until your vision of that person is tainted. And he would snicker to himself as you sit down next to him, allowing him to drag you on his lap, as he knew he successfully managed to warrant away another competitor for your love.

ᯓ Yandere! Adam who knew, since day one, he wanted you and only you. It made Lute a little disturbed how quickly Adam had catch your figure in the crowd and instantly began to ask questions about you. Lute was sure you had gotten to Heaven in that week, she hadn't seen you around before, and yet that didn't seem to deter Adam. "So, I figured out who that hot Babe was from yesterday," Adam would tell Lute the next day as they sat upon the council, waiting for the next hearing. Curious, and a tad amused (as she didn't believe him), Lute would roll her eyes and amuse him. "Oh, really?" She would mumble, resting her elbow on the railing and her cheek against her fist. "Who is she then?" And Lute was certain she almost fell off of her seat in shock when Adam began to list your name, the mortal age you died and how, when you got to heaven, where you were living in heaven, possible family members, and some basic information about what you liked and didn't and your current favorite place in Heaven. She was sure Adam had gone insane, at least until he noticed and quickly gave her a cover story: He simply had met you in one of his favorite lunch places and you began talking and you two just clicked.

ᯓ Yandere! Adam who will never, ever, hurt you or anyone you care about yet take out his frustrations on the sinners of hell. Too many times have Lute had to watch, and listen, as Adam completely shredded through Sinners like they were nothing yet flies under his shoe while ranting about the last person you hang out with that got just a little too close. Lute was sure that if this kept up, Adam would not only violate some of the agreement terms that were laid with Lucifer, yet he would obliterate the overpopulation problem by killing the sinners, basically, single-handily. She wouldn't admit it yet it terrifies her a little how deep rooted Adam's love for you is, that she subconsciously began to distance herself from you just to not get on his shit list.

ᯓ Yandere! Adam who, after a long day of work, wants nothing more than to come home and lay in your arms all comfortable; And who is surprised, when walking through his apartment door with his guitar in hand, to see you sitting in wait at the kitchen island. "Adam, Honey, you're home!" You would chirp, shuffling off the bar stool and rushing over to his side; Letting out a soft bit of laughter as you noticed his slightly shocked look. Gently, you would take his guitar from him, asking in your ever sweet voice how his day was and if he managed to help keep Heaven safe. He wasn't sure why you had such an effect on his heart like this, on his whole body. Your single touch made Adam feel more alive than he did when he had been alive. Your sweet voice was like music in his ears and a drug he could never get enough of. And fuck your lips, Adam was sure he could kiss them for ever if you would let him. And so, when you reached up to take his mask off him, he would stop you. You were perplexed, a little shocked, as Adam raised his hands up to cup over your hands once they cupped his cheeks. Yet, upon seeing his face, the way it relaxed almost instantly upon your touch, all you could do was smile softly up at him. "Honey, come on, let's go sit on the couch and you can tell me everything that happened.." You would whisper softly to him, coaxing him to come and rest his body after a long day of work. And how could he say no to his darling? After this lovely, warming welcome, Adam felt like he should be the one praising and giving you such attention you bask on him.

ᯓ Yandere! Adam who waits on foot and knee if you ever need him. Yandere! Adam who would do anything to keep you with him, and only for him. Yandere! Adam who has charmed most of your friends and family. Yandere! Adam who doesn't force you to do anything but might play with your thoughts a little to get his way. Yandere! Adam who loves you more than he ever loved Lilith and Eve and makes sure you know it. Yandere! Adam who thinks, and half believes, he doesn't deserve someone like you and is selfish for handing you all to himself. Yet, also in turn, Yandere! Adam who might just die or go insane if he cannot bask in your love and affection.

ᯓ Yandere! Adam.. oh boy do you have your hands full with having him as your lover.

Home | Masterlist

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

[usagikookiejams]

THEY SAW SOMEONE 'FLIRTS' WITH YOU

Baji Keisuke, Haitani Ran, Hitto Kakucho

Baji Keisuke

Baji walked over to the spot he promised to meet you after school. Upon his arrival, he could see a guy was flirting with you. He saw how the guy was leaning towards you in a friendly manner, making his blood boiled. Baji knew that he shouldn't act violently as he's still inside the school perimeters, hence might risk getting in trouble. However, he didn't realize how his body was moving on its own and landing a punch on the guy's face. The guy stumbled backward on the ground and looked up at him, 'What was that for!?,' said the poor guy. Baji took his glasses off and smiled sinisterly at him. The guy trembled and immediately ran away. 'What was that for, Kei?,' you asked him. 'I don't like how he was flirting with you, it's utterly disgusting to say the least,' he shoved his glasses inside his school uniform pocket. You tried to hold your laughter but failed miserably, 'You know he was the new guy in school, right? He was asking me directions to the Principal's office. He admitted to be semi-deaf too so he asked me beforehand to explain near to his ear. How could you do that Kei, pfttt!.' It could be said that Baji felt embarrassed for the whole week and tried to 'talk' to the guy to ensure he didn't report him to the school office. Yeah, he definitely didn't beg him, yup I assured you he didn't. Maybe just maybe... if you paid attention enough, you could see how Baji was following the guy to talk things through, just maybe tho~

Haitani Ran

You and Ran went to the supermarket to get some groceries. You told him that you will fetch some items from the other aisle, and he needs to just stay there. 15 minutes passed-by, but you still didn't come back. So, he went to look around for you. He noticed a familiar figure that is yours and went to that direction but his movement halted upon seeing someone talking to you, a guy to be exact. Without thinking thoroughly, he went to you and slung his arm around your shoulders, 'Look at this dumb man trying to flirt with what is mine, how shameless,' he smirked at the guy. 'Excuse me, what?,' 'Stop acting dumb, I know you're trying to flirt with my girl here, isn't that right babe?.' Your mouth hung open in disbelief and you dragged him away, not before apologizing to that guy. 'Babee, why should you apologized to him? He made you uncomfortable didn't he?,' Ran asked as he's quite confused with the situation. 'No Ran. That guy over there is my uncle! Now, I want you to go there and apologize sincerely to him!,' you demanded him. Ran almost felt his soul leaving his body upon hearing that. Best to say that whenever you visited your uncle after that, Ran always bring luxurious gifts for him though it has been months since then.

Hitto Kakucho

You and Kakucho has been dating for almost a year. Today marked your first anniversary with him, thus both of you had a plan priorly to celebrate at the 5-star restaurant across the town. You had a great conversation with him throughout the night, when the spotlight suddenly aimed towards you. 'Oh my, what is this?,' you said gleefully. Kakucho came to your side and held out his hand, 'Do you mind dancing with me on the dance floor?.' The other customers were applausing for you guys, meanwhile you could hear the classical music playing in the background. After finishing the dance, Kakucho talked to the mic, telling how grateful he is to love you and enjoy your love hopefully until forever. You could see some of the customers shed tears, and so did you. After returning to your table, you dismissed yourself to the ladies' to fix your makeup. Kakucho waited for about 5 minutes and could see your figure approaching. But before you could come back to the table, he saw a guy came towards you and hugging you. Kakucho immediately walked towards both of you and pull the man aside, 'Don't you dare touching my girl! Do that again and I will make sure your fingers are cut off'. The guy looks petrified and looked at you. 'Calm down honey! It's okay, nothing bad happened. This guy is my brother, remember?' you tried to reasoned with him. Never in his life Kakucho felt this kind of embarrassment, for the next hour and so on, there he was, still asking for your brother's forgiveness despite had been forgiven.

[your-werewolf-boyfriend]

Bc I have new people here, here's my soapbox for today: don't get an automatic litter box for your cat

There's a lot of reasons, including they're stressful to cats, they're expensive for equipment that jams or breaks or needs maintenance costs, but the overall huge one is they're dangerous for your cats

Most are two types, the horizontal scooper, or a rotating scooper. And each of these has its issues. But a horizontal scooper can pinch your cats limbs, and for smaller cats it can literally trap them in a bag. A cat when scared will crouch, making it perfectly easy for a scooper to go right over them and seal them up. A rotating self cleaner can do the same, but literally rotate your cat around like a slow dryer and pinch or break limbs as well. Some models shut door and don't open up because the motor broke, can crush your cat, and other various horrible ways to pass in your own bathroom.

Now, they say there are safety features on these things, you'd think they'd work. Here are some videos of those safety features failing, and because they never tell you what backups and failsafes they have, it's pretty... awful:

The one below is really in depth, and is probably the starter behind the movement to stop this nonsense

This is a shorter second video below

WARNING, this one's a bit graphic due to the distress noises I didn't listen with audio after hearing the first cry. This one had to be dismantled in order to free the animal

Here's also my guy Jackson Galaxy, though he's lost some credibility from me due to his cat chakra stuff he tried to sell at one point, he still does do some good info, and here's some on why you shouldn't touch these things:

And I will reiterate my FAVORITE point from Galaxy. Think of how many parts are in your car, or for simplicity sake, a vape or a door. There's a lot of moving parts, it's not just a motor in there. There's supposed to be sensors, and detectors, and thus a computer to tell it what to do. Mechanically you think of the hinges, and levers that push and pull the parts along.

That's a lot of parts to fail, if the computer fails and no longer reads the sensors correctly - there's nothing stopping it from biting your cat, if the sensors stop working, the computer won't even know. Sometimes the calibration on these things isn't even right to start with which is how you get the stuffed animal being easily crushed into halves on a brand new machine.

"Okay, these are bad... what can I do to make scooping liter easier/not as heavy?"

I'm glad you asked, let me introduce you to... the NET:

These bad boys make scooping liter easy. You can do it from a wheelchair, with one hand, and as long as you can hold the weigh of the waste, which you would be holding to dump it into the trash anyway, you're good to go!

Some are reusable, some aren't, some are their own little trash bag too, made to pull and then be tied and dumped in the trash.

Alternatively, if you're looking for the enclosed space because your cat is an idiot like mine and likes to fling litter, try a geriatric litter box. They're usually 3 feet by 3 feet, and the bastard of my dreams has a much easier time digging around without throwing it out of the box. Just use a little less depth.

[some-pers0n]

I'm in a bad writer's block right now, but! I'm trying to cook up something real soon. Here's the first little bit of a new fic of mine I've got in the works. Take four guesses as to what it's about. Winner gets to eat bricks.

Oh and also small Turtbli moment happens if you like Gay Dragons.

The Island Palace was quite possibly the last place Turtle wanted to visit. Why would he? It remains as a scar on Pyrrhia, a reminder of the dangerous potential of animus magic. A stain on the Sea Kingdom's history of what happens when animus magic goes unchecked.

Albatross was not a dragon Fathom wanted to be. A mad dragon. A terrifying murderer. An animus who could not control his own magic. Simply thinking about him made his stomach churn. Knowing that it was a possibility he could end up like Albatross horrified him. He would be better than that monster.

So, hearing that the Jade Winglet wanted to spend a night at the Island Palace was definitely something he was not interested in doing.

Unfortunately, Qibli and Kinkajou were firm in this decision.

"Oh come on," Qibli said, "it's only one night!"

"We shouldn't...be here." Turtle mumbled. "Isn't this disrespectful? I mean, we are just going to run around in a place where so...so many dragons lost their lives."

"And? It's not like they're alive to see it. They've been dead for a long, long, LONG time," Kinkajou called out. "Who cares? It's going to be fun! Trust us."

"It's supposed to be scary anyways. It's Faust's Hallow. Wouldn't it be a little fun to spend it at some creepy old palace? We rarely get together nowadays, and besides, didn't Queen Coral give us permission for this? Turtle, this is our one chance!"

Turtle reluctantly looked at her, sighing. "If you say so..."

He was never fond of Faust's Hallow. It was a biannual "celebration" of one of the forgotten brother of Imperial, Oracle, and Perception. As the NightWing legend goes, while the other dragons ascended into the night sky to become the moons, Faust remained. He was tied to the world with his earthly connections. Thus, becoming the first-ever spirit. It was the basis for SandWing spirituality, so to say that Qibli was interested in it was most definitely an understatement.

Turtle on the other talon? Well, all he could think about was death and horror. His older brothers took joy in dressing up as ghosts and scaring the living daylights out of the younger ones. Not to also mention the constant imagery of skeletons and mourning, with Coral always having a memorial for her lost daughters.

Then, of course, Albatross himself. The reason they were coming here. A legend was that Albatross's spirit had never passed on. That his soul remained at the Island Palace, restless and still just as mad as the day he died. There had been stories of overly curious and confident dragonets running home after an encounter with Albatross at the Island Palace. But, those were just silly rumors. Little myths. Th- that's what it is.

Albatross wasn't there. How could he be? Well, the story of Faust was based on him wandering the continent for eternity. Perhaps, maybe- no. It's a made up story. Turtle wasn't going to fall for some sort of story his brothers would tell to scare him. He already had enough sleepless nights, filled with anxiety and worry over the concept of Albatross still being around.

He's not. He's dead. This was just going to be a nice, if a bit restless, night out in the ruins of the abandoned Island Palace. He will not be scared.

They touched down onto the beach around it. If Turtle remembered correctly, this was the Sunrise Beach. It was empty, completely devoid of any sort of life. The palace in front of them was crumbling and tattered. The lavish white walls were discoloured and washed out from weathering an impossible amount of storms. It was covered in moss and sea flora, with barnacles growing on the base of the palace. The light of the setting sun basked the palace in an ominous glow of oranges and purples.

A deep, horrible feeling persisted within Turtle. It made him aware of the light sensation in his claws. The tiny burning from within. Only a little ways away, tragedy had taken place. Two thousand years ago, Albatross, his own great-grandfather, slaughtered twenty dragons. He caries the same power he does. Even right now, he could kill all of his friends. One stray thought and who knows what would happen.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Kinkajou bounced ahead. "We've got a whole palace to explore! I call looking on the upper floors with Moon!"

"Wh- me? Uh...okay then?" She stepped forward, following after her. "See you, I guess?" She waved to Qibli and Turtle before disappearing off into the courtyard.

"So, that just leaves me and you." Qibli rested his wing on Turtle, pulling him closer.

"Hurray..."

"Where you wanna go? If they're going up, let's check out the ground floor. Gardens. See some cool old statues that've been crumbling from age."

"What fun..."

Qibli frowned. "Hey, look. I know you're a bit freaked out. You didn't really want to come here. I'm sorry for dragging you along. But, I promise it'll be fun! There's nothing here to hurt any of us. Even if Albatross is still floating around somewhere, I'll be there protecting all of you." He raised his tail, showing off his obsidian-black barb.

Turtle awkwardly chuckled. "I don't think you can really stab a spirit."

"Are you saying I've never fought a spirit before?" the SandWing grinned confidently. "I'll have you know that, as Queen Thorn's personal guard and adoptive son, I had to fend off armies of spirits. Vengeful ghosts of dragons. Such is the way of being queen, I suppose. Anyways, I just need to fight them. Give them the ol' one-two. Beat 'em off with a stick." He swung his arm, mimicking hitting something.

He laughed, feeling his anxieties melt away. Qibli looked back at him, a soft, genuine smile on his face. "Feel a bit better?" He patted him on the back. "Right, let's go exploring."

[skarletterambles]

On today's episode of "I could reblog that and add my thoughts, but that might invite drama nobody (including me) asked for, so I'll just make a new post over here"...

The OP I decided not to bother said this:

(It has the same energy as "I'm not prejudiced, but...")

"Undeniable," huh? Hold my beer.

If your parents are abusive or toxic, I'm sure that statement is true. You can't heal from trauma that's ongoing any more than you can heal a scubbed knee if you keep dragging it across the sidewalk.

It sucks that anyone has to deal with living in a toxic environment, crappy parents, etc. I sincerely hope things get better soon for everyone in that situation.

But not everyone is in that situation.

I admit my kneejerk reaction was something along the lines of, "You don't know me and my situation so how dare you make assumptions and then judge me based on them." But of course I don't know OP or the commenters, either. I imagine the original was a quick vent post that wasn't meant to be a blanket statement, nor to spread and attract drama. The comments still turned into a shitshow that I didn't want to stir in; thus my own post.

In what shouldn't be news to anyone, everyone is a different person, living in a different situation with different family, with different history and culture, in a different socioeconomic stratum, and with different physical and mental health conditions, and therefore what is wonderful for one person is hell for another and vice versa. Or to shorten it to a meme: your experience is not universal.

Personally, I live with my parents because the choice is literally that or homelessness. Period. I'm fine with it, honestly, and consider myself lucky to have this option.

When I'm not at work or occasionally out with a friend, I want to just be quiet at home, which jives well with two 70-something retirees. I'm aro/ace so there's no awkward romance to work around. I'm an only child so there are no siblings to complicate the situation.

I have a great relationship with my mom. I used to with my dad, as well, but personality changes after his stroke have made it harder. I still love him, though. As they both age and deal with chronic health issues, I'm glad I'm here and able to help. It was the same when my grandmother lived the last twenty-odd years of her life with us, too.

I can only work part-time due to a medically documented disability, so I cannot afford to live on my own. (Hell, a lot of people with multiple jobs or full-time jobs can't afford that these days, either.) No one in my extended family is well off, and we try to help each other whenever possible. Any extra support my parents could give is already tied up keeping another family member from ending up on the street--which I'm glad they can do! We're all in this together. (For the record, I buy all my own stuff plus contribute to the grocery budget for the household, and I pay some of the household bills as well as my personal ones.)

I would absolutely love more alone time, but I wouldn't want to go days at the time without seeing family, either. Ideally I'd like to live next door, or in a detached guest house, so I could choose how much time I spend with my parents and still have a place that was all mine. I'd love to pick how to organize cupboards, how to decorate, etc. I get to do some of that already, but having a place be truly mine would be great. These are not huge issues that keep me awake at night, though.

I interact with a lot of unhoused persons at my job in a public library, and I'm frequently reminded of how much privilege I have. I have a reliable roof over my head with heating/air-conditioning, laundry, a kitchen, hot and cold running water that is safe to drink, a good winter coat, food to eat, etc. I live in an area that has a relatively low crime rate, and is nowhere near a war zone. I do not experience racism, transphobia, or homophobia. I have not been touched by a natural disaster.

Nobody's life is perfect. Some are better than mine. Lots are worse.

What is true for OP isn't true for me. What is true for me isn't true for OP. What is true for either of us isn't true for a hypothetical third person. I'm not trying to slam a gavel down and scream "YOU'RE WRONG!" at OP or those who agree with them. I just had thoughts to unload about the nuances. Which I did.

So now I'll shut up. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[the-whispers-of-death]

Poor Orinothicor... (no bitches)

Nightly unfortunately (his words not mine) has a pretty nasty facial scar from the explosion that happened in France so if Bredadith doesn't mind the texture of the scar than he's welcome to touch Nightly's face

And while there's nothing wrong with being fat Cairo will gladly comfort Yonuthia!Stone and pepper kisses all over Yonuthia!Stone's physical body

-🔮

Bredadith doesn't mind, he's used to feeling faces with scars. Literally everyone he knows except for the Hexiltor has facial scars. Scars are something his fingertips knows very well. And while he can't see, he's certain that Nightly's scar just makes him all the more beautiful.

There is nothing wrong being fat, I think I mistyped when answering the last ask because Yonuthia!Stone was being insecure about being "too fat", not just fat. It's still not an accurate description of him. (Also who the fuck is telling him he's too fat? I know it's a Yonuthia but honestly, they would never call the Hexiltor too fat so they shouldn't be calling anyone else too fat.)

Anyways, yes, poor Orinothicor. While he can't have a romantic partner without them dying and then him going on a killing spree, there is one other type of love that he is lacking. Platonic love.

He has a lot of familial love, so much familial love. But he has no friends when you really think about it. The only Yonuthias who are his equals are his siblings. And so like literally everyone else, their friendship to him is iffy at best since the majority of them are his subjects and thus they all don't feel too comfortable at being on equal grounds with him (and they all aren't really ever on equal grounds with him).

So this is Orinothicor's humble bid for friends. Surely, there is one (or more) OC who will look past the fact that he seems like he hates mortals (he's warming up to them all in general now that literally everyone around him seems to be dating/marrying mortals) and the fact that he does not smile or laugh very often. He's a very stoic being, he can't help it.

He is loyal though, will totally protect you and if the balance of the universe allows it, he will kill for you. He's also very, very good with kids. He can be a cool fun uncle to anyone's kids.

Orinothicor is clingy once he gets used to you though. He loves cuddling and honestly, you will find his hand on you somewhere, anywhere he can touch you. He, for reasons unknown, needs to feel someone to be grounded in the fact that they are in fact there.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

prompts 1 and 28 with the twins pwease? :D ~argonaut--keene

“Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

28. “Because I love you.”

--

The thing about being a lich is that Lup has exactly zero ways to wear any accessories. Any bracelets just fall right through her ding-dang wrist. Forget earrings, she didn't even have ears. And don't even get her started on actual outfits. So really, it shouldn't be a surprise when Lup floated through the wall into the kitchen and found Taako wearing one of her shirts. Actually, it was one of Barry's, which used to be Magnus's, which used to be Magnus's mom's. It was ratty by now, one sleeve held up by several repeated attempts to stitch it shut. The other one was hanging on by literal magic. The enchanted Lup had done was still going strong, at least.

"Is that my shirt?"

"You mean our shirt?" Taako shot back immediately, not even turning to face her. There was a slow stew simmering on the stove. Lup was ninety-five percent sure Taako didn't need to be stirring it, but there he was.

"Well, Barry's shirt," Lup said.

"It doesn't matter who's shirt it was, it's mine now," Taako said. He still hadn't turned away from his stew. The stirring motions were more like Taako was violently mixing. His ears were flattened and even though his tone was like- cheerfully light, like he had just had a really good bath- it was incredibly obvious that it was all a front. Thus the reason why Lup was in here, anyway.

She floated towards the counter, leaning against it. Taako was looking at the stew like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Hey," Lup said. "You feeling okay?"

Taako gave her a Look that clearly read what do you think?

"Alright, bad question," Lup said. "What's up?"

Taako gave her the same Look, but with much more feeling behind it.

"I'm not a mind reader, babe," Lup said.

Taako's spoon hit the bottom of the pan with a clank. He pulled it out and slapped it down on the counter. The stew bubbled. After a moment, Taako took a deep breath and set the lid down over the top of the pot in a much calmer fashion. And then, without looking at her, he hopped up on one of the island stools and put his face directly into the counter.

Lup waited. She floated up to the stool next to him and just sat there as he took his hat off, moved it under his face, and let out a little scream into it. Okay, a pretty loud scream. The kitchen door shot open and Magnus broke in, his fists raised. Lup held up a skeletal hand and Magnus paused. Very, very slowly, Magnus backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Taako sighed.

"You're supposed to be dead," Taako said at long last. Lup drummed her fingerbones on the counter.

"Yeah," she said. "I am."

"But you're not," Taako said.

"Would you... prefer if I wa-"

"No!" Taako said, sitting up. His hat sprang up slightly from where he had been squishing it. "Of course I don't!"

"Then I, uh," Lup shook her head. "I don't really see the issue here, Taako."

"You're supposed to be dead," Taako repeated. Lup nodded. "And you're not." At her lack of response, he groaned, burying his face in his hands. After a second, he slapped his hands down onto the counter. "I had to bury you, Lup! And you're still here! D'you know how much that's fucking with my emotions??"

"Ah," Lup said. "Uhm. No, I can't say I do. But I imagine it's not great."

"It's not," Taako said. "It's just- you're here. You're alive, kinda. Your soul is alive."

"But it's not me," Lup finished. Taako nodded, sinking back down to put his face on the counter. His cheek squished against it, but he was looking at her this time.

"But it's not you," he said. "You're here but I can't touch you or get a hug or just like, lay on top of you. And I'm glad you're not dead-dead, but it fucking sucks."

"Taako," Lup said. She hesitated for a second, then ran a ghostly hand through his hair. He shivered, but nothing moved. "Why didn't you tell me before? I've been dead for like, weeks now. If you wanted a hug-"

"Because I love you, doofus," Taako said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And I'm not gonna complain about you not being half dead when you could be fully dead. That's not- ugh. No."

"Taako..."

"And I didn't know if it'd like, fuck you up, to complain about it," Taako said, averting his eyes once more. "Like, you're built on bonds and magic duct tape, I'm not gonna be the one to undo all of that."

"Taako, I'm not gonna fall apart because you shared your feelings with me," Lup said. "Like, yeah, I'm not the most stable I could be, but the bonds that Barry and I are built on- they- they can't just be erased because of an argument or some hurt feelings. You telling me how you feel isn't breaking our bond, Taako. If anything, it's making it stronger."

Taako exhaled, turning his head away from her.

"Well," he said. "I didn't know that."

"I didn't think about it," Lup said. "I'm sorry you thought you couldn't talk to me about it."

"It's fine," Taako said shortly.

"Babe-"

"Seriously," Taako said. He shook his head, sitting himself back up. He still wasn't looking at her, but his shoulders were a little more relaxed. "I'm- I'm a mess, but like, it's fine. It's the apocalypse, y'know? Kinda wears away at you."

"I love you," Lup said. She tried to lay a hand on Taako's shoulder and it just sunk through him. "Whoops."

"I get the point," Taako said, smiling at her. It was strained, it was so obviously strained, but Lup didn't comment on it. Instead, she got up from the stool and said,

"D'you wanna go lay on Magnus instead?"

Taako glanced between her and the kitchen door. After a moment, he shrugged, and got up too, taking his hat with it.

"Might as well," he said, but Lup heard "yes fucking please". "The stew needs time to simmer."

"I'll take care of it," she said.

[thehomelybrewster]

Being Trans in D&D and other Fantasy TTRPGs - Magical and Non-Magical Transitions

So I've been thinking a lot about how to incorporate being trans into D&D and other fantasy TTRPGs because hey, why shouldn't I?

Trans people deserve to exist in fantasy settings and players should be able to be trans in-game. Now here's the thing though: for most trans people being trans involves transitioning to some degree. But how can one represent that in-game? Note that this is in the context of binary trans people and meant to be setting- and system-agnostic, however I will make a D&D-specific suggestion at one point.

The first and easiest to include method is just good old way of using clothing (+ hair styling & make-up potentially), binding/stuffing, and voice training only. It is very doable and doesn't really require anything mechanical or stuff that has wide-reaching implications for the world.

The second option that basically supplements the first option is to have transition-inducing potions and salves, basically HRT. In a typical TTRPG medieval fantasy setting with stuff like healing potions, why shouldn't potions or the like exist that drastically affect a person's hormones? It is also easier to justify for the format than modern gender-affirming surgeries might be.

The third option is downright magic, but it admittedly comes in two flavors: the mystical and the controlled. The former is divine intervention, a wish to a djinn, or part of a bargain with a fiend or hag. Basically getting a very powerful entity to instantly transition you. This is risky, unlikely, and not great in my opinion... Controlled magic, as in stuff which is potentially attainable for players, might be the solution.

The question there is very much related to the magic system in use and the prevalence of magic in the setting. A simple to cast spell that can permanently alter the appearance of a person has massive implications for a setting. Let's look at D&D specifically for this.

Disguise Self is a popular illusion spell that can allow you to look and sound different for up to an hour, but doesn't change your actual physical appearance. This makes it a flawed way to change your appearance and as a 1st-level spell it is easy to cast but still, a Lvl 17 and up wizard only has 22 spell slots per day, so it would require a mighty spell caster to keep up this sort of illusion for a whole day (excluding warlocks who can gain the ability to do this at will quite early, so that is something). The spell Alter Self does include a physical alteration with the same 1 hour limitation though, but it's a 2nd-level spell and thus slightly less attainable.

The only official spells I know which can permanently and substantially change your appearance are Wish and Reincarnate. The former is (in)famous for being able to do virtually anything (but with heavy risks involved), the latter is an RNG-based resurrection spell with an expensive material component. In terms of cost, Reincarnate might be a good guideline for a spell that can induce the sort of permanent physical change that transitioning would entail.

Let's imagine for example this homebrew spell of mine, which is basically a mixture of Reincarnate and Alter Self:

Reshape Person

5th-level transformation

Casting Time: 1 hour

Range: Touch

Components: V, S, M (exquisite-quality ointments and make-up worth at least 1,000 gp, which the spell consumes)

Duration: Instantaneous

You permanently transform the appearance of a humanoid to look like a different member of the same race as the target. You decide what you look like, including your height, weight, facial features, sound of your voice, hair length, coloration, and distinguishing characteristics, if any, which can also include characteristics which might point to a mixed ancestry.

Classes: Cleric, Wizard

This spell would be difficult to gain access to for e.g. criminals who need to permanently alter their appearance, but for people with means it might be a quick way to transition, or even to replace things like plastic surgery. Unless the setting you are playing in is overflowing with magic, then you need to put limits in place as to how easy it is to permanently alter your appearence through magical means, since it would have massive implications on how the world functions, but limiting the spell's accessibility lessens the impact it has on the world, even if it makes magically transitioning harder.

Anyway, this is just my perspective and far from extensive, but hey, discussion!

[modx-reborn]

Hi its me again with another not so thought out thought

Have you caught the last philza origin stream where he's definitely "not" a villain? Cuz I've got some vauge idea

Philza seeing the new hybrid that shown up (whichever hybrid you want I'm not picky) and immediately going "mine"

And why shouldn't he everything is his anyways, always has been always will be.

So he sets out to court you and give you all the gifts and things you could possibly need or want. Untill you accept him as your mate, and realise he's all you'll ever need. No need to fight or struggle because he will provide everything you'll ever need and keep you safe, with him.

-🐛

OOOOOO, it's been a while since I had a philza ask let alone an OSMP one for him. Also, I may have run off prompt a little... (Plus I whole ass play elytrian and inchling so like imaging Philza and an inchling darling... WAIT NO)

You were new, and new meant impressionable and willing to do anything to fit in and be accepted, that meant what was his would also now extend to you, you are his as is all else. But it would take some time for you to understand and know this and till then he could wait, or he would have waited had you not presented as the most enticing person thus far on the server.

A raccoon hybrid of all things, striped ears and a little fluffy tail that you were quick to snatch away from others grabby hands, zipping about and burrowing as you like, a strange little creature that on first meeting him had gone wide eyes and bolted, choosing to run rather than stay and talk.

You should have stayed.

All it took for the curiosity of a new person to become more was your reactions, you were shiny and new, scared and impressionable, and you would be his.

The possess was slow, little gifts and smiles, avoiding touch when his mind whispered to scoop you up and hide you away till you welcomed his touch and his touch alone, offering a kind shoulder and ear to anything you may have to ramble or worry about, but even his patience runs out, you were his already and this little act of easing you into his attentions was becoming boring, it was time you accepted that you were his and that was that.

The burrow and hollow you called home is familiar to him, every nook and cranny well known and well stepped by him, even if the lower ceilings made him feel woozy and fingers itch for the open air to return, but for you, for this sight of you sleeping so peacefully, half-naked in the warm night's air, he would have crawled into a one by one hole to gather his darling.

Even as you woke in his arms mid-flight, that didn't matter, you were his, just like everything else, and no amount of fight or struggle would change that, you belonged to Philza the moment you stepped into the server and you would belong to him the moment you stepped foot out of it, but good luck leaving.

Your his now, his mate, his darling, his pretty little nest mate, and oh how he will figure a way to keep you swathed in his riches and bound to his growing nest of things.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 17 TYRION IV (pages 238-253)

Tyrion lays some bait for the members of the small council as he tries to plan for the future of King's Landing and his family. Meanwhile, Alisser Thorne finally arrives, but his warning about the up coming Zombie Apocalypse is unfortunately delayed.

-

"There are a hundred whorehouses in this city where a clipped copper will buy me all the cunt I want," Bronn answered, "but one day my life may hang on how close I've watched your louts." He stood.

"cunt" = 🥛

The sellsword grew more serious. "There's a moneylender from Braavos, holding fancy papers and the like, requests to see the ling about payment on some loan." "As if Joff could count past twenty. Send the man to Littlefinger, he'll find a way to put him off. Next?"

... Does Tyrion know how in debt the crown is? He should by this point shouldn't he? I can't decide if I should be reading this as "Tyrion knows how bad the debt is and that they can't pay it so they need to stall for time until they can" or "Tyrion doesn't know how bad the debt is but money and stuff is Not His Department and thus not his problem."

"Ser Alliser Thorne?" Of all the brothers he'd met on the Wall, Tyrion had liked Ser Alliser Thorne the least. A bitter, mean-spirited man with too great a sense of his own worth. "Come to think on it, I don't believe I care to see Ser Alliser just now. Find him a snug cell where no one has changed the rushes in a year, and let his hand rot a little more."

*slow clap* Excellent. And thus, because he did not like the messenger, he did not hear the message until there was no evidence left to prove it true.

That's part of the allegory though, isn't it. People don't want to hear the message, they want to hear it even less from people they don't like, as if the truth is depended on whether or not we like it.

Also, I keep going to type 'Allister' every time I have to spell Alliser's name.

"That's a handsome knife as well." "Is it?" There was mischief in Littlefinger's eyes. He drew the knife and glanced at it casually, as if he had never seen it before. "Valyrian steel and a dragonbone hilt. A trifle plain, though. It's yours, if you would like it." "Mine?" Tyrion gave him a long look. "No. I think not. Never mine." He knows, the insolent wretch. He knows and he knows that I know, and her thinks that I cannot touch him.

Valyrian steel + Dragonbone = 🥛🥛 (the weather's still atrociously hot, so it still counts for two. Stay hydrated all!)

Oh wow, Littlefinger really does own the entire economy from the top down. No wonder he's been getting away with embezzlement and tax fraud.

"- I've heard you grew close to the Tullys." "You might say so. The girls especially." "How close?" "I had their maidenheads. Is that close enough?"

-and then suddenly the floor and wall collapsed, dropping Petyr into the yard where the hares decided they'd had enough and staged an uprising, killing Joffrey and Petyr first with all the vengeance they could muster, calling on their ancestor: The Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog!

"She believes she has good reason. When I was her guest in the Eyrie, she insisted that I'd murdered her husband, and was not inclined to listen to denials." He leaned forward. "If I gave her Jon Arryn's true killer, she might think more kindly of me."

*looks directly at the camera like we're on The Office* just a sliiiight flaw in that plan, Tyrion. Very mall, true, but unfortunately, structural. Load bearing, even.

... You know, I do kind of like Varys in spite of myself. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him, but he grows on me. Like a cute, giggly fungus.

[bradtomlovesya]

Ⓦⓗⓔⓝ ⓣⓗⓔ ⓢⓗⓞⓦ ⓔⓝⓓⓢ Pt. 2 (final)

Warnings: Smut +18!, fingering, bad words, orgasm denied, sub!reader, Dom!Brad, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Pic: @sash_maxwell on ig.

I woke up due to the light coming through the curtains and got up totally naked to close them and let Brad continue to sleep. I knew he was very tired from the concert and from our hectic session last night.

I bent down to pick up my pantyhose lying on the floor of the room and put them on. I also took the red shirt that had started all of this in the first place and put it on just by buttoning a few buttons.

I turned my head to see Brad peacefully asleep. Today I had the day off so I tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake him up and so that he could get enough rest while I made some coffee. In the hotel room there was only a bed with a nightstand on each side, a three-seater sofa next to the balcony with a coffee table in front of it, a dining-type table and two chairs around it. On the little table next to the sofa there was a coffee machine and complimentary coffee so I decided to take advantage of it and prepare some fresh coffee for when he woke up.

I was preparing the coffee when minutes later his arms around my waist made me jump slightly with fright.

"Fuck! Bradley." I tried to catch my breath. "You scared me." I put a hand to my chest.

"I'm sorry honey." He said hoarsely and a giggle left his lips. "I didn't want to scare you." He flicked my hair to the side and placed a kiss on my neck that sent a huge electric current through my body.

I turned on my heel and wrapped my arms around his neck. "It's okay." I left a short kiss on his lips. "I woke you up?"

"No." He responded with his raspy voice and shook his head causing some of his unruly curls to fall across his forehead. "I patted next to me but you weren't there so I opened my eyes and guess what I saw?" He bit his lip with a smile. 

"What did you see?" I asked with the same smile.

He leaned close to my ear and his lips brushed my earlobe. "I saw you wearing my shirt." He kissed right at that soft spot behind my lobe and took me by the thighs and walked with me to leave me sitting on the table. "It looks so fucking good on you. I could swear the thoughts that haunt my head of the things I want to do to you right now are not healthy at all." He spread my legs, making me gasp. "Can I do the dirty things I'm thinking of doing to you?" He directed his eyes to mine and I could see that they were only his pupils. They were full of desire.

"Brad ..." I gasp. "You just woke up, how can you think about that?" I laughed slightly.

"It's your fault." He spoke seriously. "It's entirely your fault for wearing my shirt, Y/n." He crossed his arms. His expression was one of pure seriousness. "So now all I think about is fucking that cute pussy right against this table while you still have my shirt on so you think about your actions." He clicked his tongue. "However, you know that your consent is important so I need you to say yes."

I beat my eyelids over my white skin not believing what I was hearing. I felt the moisture slide back between my folds and, when I regained consciousness, I moved my lips "Yes, it is a yes, Love." I nodded quickly. My cunt throbbed to feel him inside me again.

"Good because I wasn't going to take no for an answer" He unfolded his arms and took a step towards me. "You shouldn't have worn my shirt if you weren't up for me to fuck you hard, right?" I was silent but he took my face between his fingers for me to speak. "Words, darling. That little mouth isn't just for sucking my cock. Use it to talk."

"Yes, I wanted that when you saw me with your shirt on, you wanted to fuck me" I replied in something a little louder than a murmur.

"Already knew." He released my face. "I just wanted you to accept it" he ran his index finger between my breasts until he finished on my pantyhose. "Look at that pretty face with a fucking perverted mind." He laughed hoarsely and pressed my clit a little with his finger over the fabric making me moan. "Awww, Love." He pouted. "Look how desperate you are for me to touch you."

"Bradley, please stop teasing me and playing with me." I begged. "Please just come into me." I tried to put my hands on the elastic of his boxer to lower it but he stopped me.

"Don't even think for a fucking second that this is about you and what you want." He rudely denied. "This is about me and how much I'm going to enjoy fucking you so fucking hard that all the people in this hotel will know your moans and the name of the person causing them." He put his hand under my underwear and patted my cunt. "So damn wet!" He grunted. He slipped two of his fingers into me without warning and jerked them against my walls that tightened at the feel of him. "Always so tight, my pretty little doll." He curled his fingers reaching up to my G-spot making me scream his name. "It doesn't even look like I had fuck that pretty pussy just last night."

"Brad!" I groaned loudly and threw my head back. "I'm sorry, I really ... Ah!" Another moan as he entered another finger and moved violently causing a series of obscene and delicious sounds that filled the room.

"Alright, I think that pretty vagina is ready to receive me" He pulled his fingers out and moved his finger in circles over my clit causing more moisture to flow down my pussy.

"Yes ... I'm ready" I answered between gasps with my eyes closed and tight. His finger kept moving and sending currents at my most sensitive nerve point. The brown haired boy made a little more pressure and, just as I was about to cum, he withdrew his finger from me making the feeling go away.

"You won't feel it until I decide you should." He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. "Always so sweet." He smiled grimly. "Get off the table." He ordered and so I did. "It's time to fuck that cute cunt that only belongs to me" He put his hands on my hips and turned me around. He pushed my back down so my chest was pressed against the table and lifted his shirt off my body only until my ass was exposed. "Do you know what girls get when they misbehave?" He asked me.

"Spanking?" I asked with my cheek pressed against the hard, cold surface of the table's wood. My breathing was erratic, he had already denied me a precious orgasm so I just had to be good to him for him to give me a new one.

"How smart you are, my girl" He came over and placed a kiss on my head. "That's right, spanking." He pressed his hand against the cheek of my butt with force causing a great sound of. Smack!

"You know you should not misbehave" Another spanking with more force than the previous one but on the other side. My ass right now was totally red and the feeling was burning.

And so the spankings came one after the other until they added ten and He decided that had been enough.

"Now what should you say?" He ran his palm up my butt admiring his previous work.

"Thank you Sir." I answered between gasps and wedging my nails around the edges of the table to withstand the heat. Brad got down on his knees and left several kisses on my ass cheeks to make them stop hurting a bit and it worked. "Thank you" I repeated.

"You're welcome, darling" He lowered my underwear, ran the stitch of his crotch over my folds to smear it with a bit of my moisture and seconds later he completely sank into me with one blow making me scream. "Fuck! How good you feel" his hands went to my waist to support himself. "Can I continue?" He asked me leaving a kiss on my back over the fabric of his red shirt.

"Yes, you can ..." I inhaled deeply. "You can continue." Just as I responded, I felt his hips go back and then forward to push himself fully into me, making me whimper. “Fucking hell, Brad!” I yell/moan.

His hips moved in and out of me with needed speed. I didn't think it was possible but he was moving with more force and speed every time. The table legs were grinding against the floor, but we were so caught up in our own pleasure that we didn't care. One of his hands went down until it reached my clitoris and thus began to stimulate me with enough speed and pressure to make me see stars and feel that sensation again in the lower part of my stomach. This, combined with the moans, grunts and obscenities that left Brad's mouth were driving me straight into ecstasy and he noticed it.

His dick tightened me in the only way he knew how and they stimulated all my essential points to transform all possible pain into pleasure. We fit together so well that I could feel the veins of his cock on my walls. I squeezed my vagina earning a growl from him because I knew he loved that. "Cum on my dick, darling. Come on princess" He made a little more pressure on my clit and his thrusts did not lower the force but became sloopy giving me to understand that he was about to finish too.

"Holy shit! Bradley!" I moaned his name and my legs felt like jelly. My walls closed against his member, leading him to cum inside me as well, painting my walls as his. "Ahh!" I moaned again feeling his come and his hands went to my waist to keep me from collapsing on the ground. 

"Fu-ck!" He collapsed on my back and I could feel the sweat on his forehead dampening the fabric of the shirt. "I said I would fuck you with my shirt on and I did." He laid to leave a kiss on my back and his hand went up and down my leg.

"That's right," I nodded trying to normalize my breathing. "I love this shirt" I laughed slightly and felt the vibrations of his laughter on my back. "Babe, I really love you but please get off me, that's overstimulation." I bit my lip.

"Yes, of course" He withdrew his member from inside me with a giggle. I felt myself whimper at the emptiness. "I'm sorry, I just love being there" He held me in his arms and walked with me to the bathroom. "Did I hurt you?" He left me sitting on the edge of the tub.

“No, you’re really careful even when you’re being rude to me” I took his hand and kissed his lips “Come here, let’s take a relaxing bath.” I start filling the tube.

“It would be a pleasure” He leaned to help me take off his shirt and smiled while doing it. “What the fuck do this shirt has that make us so fucking horny?” He laughed.

“I don’t know, babe” I laughed loudly. “I don’t know but let’s use it more often”

[crystalsenergy]

why planets in 12th house don't lose their vitality and aren't “weak” in their expression

pic not mine.

the 12th house is, in reality, the best way to reach a more deep contact with ourselves.

the 12th house isn't weak, it doesn't automatically debilitate all planets, as if its characteristics should be set aside and seen only in a negative way. the 12th house, as well as Pisces, are very good at making us wake up in deeper senses that we normally can't get in touch with when we connect only to earthly material life. that's why denying the importance of the 12th house is denying that it's also important to develop the opposite of everything that we already value immensely today (material life, money, possessions, routine, everything that is too earthy and concrete).

whether you like it or not, the things that we don't see exist, and the 12th house as well as Pisces represent exactly that: giving light and connecting with everything you would never be able to feel and find if you were guided only in the concrete world.

however, we can go further, recognizing all the meanings of the 12th house and Pisces:

mental health, how your psyche works

empathy, the ability to make us connect with others and their needs, not just living based on selfish desires

ability to get in touch with your deepest emotions and try to understand them

compassion for people

valuing solitude and knowing how to evolve through introspection

recognize the weak points of your own personality

know how to observe people

develop intuition

having contact with your unconscious and opening up more to it and to immaterial experiences

knowing how to escape the routine and forget about things that are too complex and concrete for a moment

emotional intelligence

ability to adapt easily

creativity, being easy with the arts and music

esoteric.

excluding or denying Piscean characteristics is the same as devaluing them by asserting that they aren't important for the development of our personality. i wonder if it's possible to be someone so evolved without recognizing the importance of, for example, being empathetic, knowing how to look at others without living connected to your ego like an egocentric animal?

some examples:

Sun in Pisces or the 12th house, for example, means that your personality will be much more introspective, that's true, but it will also be very creative, strong spiritually and emotionally.

Moon in Pisces or the 12th house makes you more sensitive to what is happening around you, on personal and collective levels, but it doesn't make you weak due to your extreme sensitivity. even because being sensitive is not synonymous with weakness. in fact, you tend to get in touch with the unconscious world (the pains of others, the feelings of others, unfair and painful things that may be happening around you) and thus develop a fairer and more egalitarian judgment of the world, even if people believe that everything you idealize is a utopia. do you imagine a nice life to live without dreams?

Mars in Pisces or the 12th house, one of the trickiest placements for having Pisces. here Mars has more passivity, but that doesn't have to mean just bad things. Mars in the sign of Pisces or in the 12th house also means a lot of ability to understand people. it means wanting to resolve conflicts in a more calm, patient and understanding way. it has to do with desiring sex with more emotional connection and less merely carnal pleasure. it's a positioning of depth and having a more emotional and understanding warrior side. obviously it shouldn't be overused because empathy in situations that don't fit (such as a dependent relationship) can be stifling for Pisces and the 12th house.

therefore, Pisces and the 12th house aren't weak, this is not automatically true.

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

An old friend - Part 3

Summary: The picnic has come and so the time to face Anthony on what you discovered, but will everything go as planned?

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Other characters: Hyachint Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: slight angst (?), fluff, again some yearning

A/n: This has been quite difficult to finish, I had different ends in mind but none seemed to fit well the flow... I hope you’ll like this! Also, I may post other parts in the future but for now, count this as the final one. ENJOY!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Gif's not mine, credit to the rightful owner

When the time came to attend the picnic in Hyde Park, the day was nothing but perfect: the sun, for the special gathering, had decided to come out of the clouds to honor everyone with its presence and a warm breeze enveloped every figure walking through the gardens or simply resting on the grass with its embrace. Even the London sky didn’t look like its normal self, with no grey clouds all over; just a few white stripes painting the bright blue canva. In other words, the epitome of a summer day.

However, sat under the gazebo playing cards with Hyacinth, Eloise and Penelope, you felt much worse than a rabbit caught under the wheel of a carriage.

"Miss Y/N/L". You turned towards Hyacinth, who was pointing at the cards. "It's your turn"

"Very well..." you sighed, throwing in the space between the four of you the first card that came in your hand. Winning the game was the least of your problems.

You had spent all night rolling from one side of your bed to the other, playing and replaying every possible scenario in your head, looking for the right way to ask Anthony what you wanted to know without sounding too accusatory. Nevertheless, it was hard to face the man when he was nowhere to be found!

He had just a moment to greet you with a quick kiss on your hand - which, you couldn't help, had made your heartbeat rise as a river during a flood - before being taken hostage first of many beautiful debutants, second of their meddlesome mothers and lastly of some old friends from boarding school.

Right now he was somewhere in the park with them, possibly reminiscing of that one time they put black ink in the professor's shoes... or something similar to that, you imagined. You weren't so sure of what sort of jests could boys come up with.

"Miss Y/N/L". Hyacinth's voice reached you again through the bubble of your thoughts. You put down another card. It took you a second after that to realize that Eloise had no cards in her hands anymore, thus making her the winner.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry" you apologised, putting your left cards back in the deck. "I hope you didn't ask me anything while I was lost in my mind"

"Just if you were alright, miss" explained Penelope. "Did you sleep well last night? You look quite tired"

You sighed. There was no sense in keeping that a secret. "Not quite. Some matters just seemed to be stuck in my head and decided not to leave for the night"

Eloise's eyes sparked in interest. "What kind of matters?" she asked, eating a strawberry.

"Nothing relevant at all" you assured with a smile, but from the look on Eloise's face, you knew she wasn't finished asking.

"No irrelevant matter could keep anyone awake for an entire night" she pointed out. "But I know what matters could..."

Penelope sighed. "Eloise..."

"Family matters" she started, raising her index, "and heart matters". She bent slightly towards you with the Bridgertons' signature smile on. "Which does apply to you?"

You scoffed. "Neither, of course". As you lowered your gaze to the messy deck, the rays of the sun felt suddenly more focused on your face than on anyone else's.

"Heart matters, that is!" Eloise exclaimed with a single clap, her eyes smiling brighter than her grin. "Do we know the lucky gentleman who caught your eye? Or perhaps he is from the countryside? Don’t tell me: are you two secretly engaged?"

Before your cheeks became the same shade of wine, a deep voice intruded the conversation: "You shouldn't badger our guest with your inquisitiveness, Eloise"

Your head shot up to meet Anthony's gaze. Even though your feelings towards him were mixed at the moment, seeing him washed you over with a warm, soothing sensation, as the need of his touch grew within you.

Eloise huffed, standing up from her seat, immediately followed by miss Featherington. "You are a bore, dear brother. I have nothing else to say on this matter". Then, taking Penelope's arm in hers, she walked away, already whispering in her best friend's ear.

"Anthony, do you want to play with us?" asked Hyacinth, already preparing the deck for another round.

Anthony smiled gently at her. "Maybe later" he said, pinching lightly her cheek. "Why don't you go play with Gregory now? I've heard he wanted to see if he could find rabbits near the bushes... or perhaps even goblins"

Hyacinth gasped. "Without me?!". She quickly and clumsily got up in her dress and, after a small curtsey to you, she was running on the grass to who-knows-where.

Now that the cover was clear, Anthony laid down next to you, pointing his elbow on the ground to keep himself up. After adjusting in a comfortable position, he sighed, looking in the direction in which Hyacinth ran off.

"Should you think she'd be angry to find out I lied to her?"

You smirked, taking a card from the deck and fidgeting it in your hands. "About Gregory or the goblins?"

Anthony turned to you, raising his eyebrows. "Both?"

You shook your head, giggling ever so slightly. "You, Lord Bridgerton, are incorrigible: lying like this to your youngest sister... what a rascal"

A corner of his lips tilted upwards. "You should not talk like this to a viscount, miss Y/L/N" he murmured. His hand moved to your arm, his fingers stroking your bare skin, lighter than a feather touch and equally tingling. "I would say it was quite improper"

At this words you moved away from him, just enough so that his fingers could only touch the empty space between you. He searched your face but you were still staring at your card.

"I believe we should talk, my lord” you said, your voice still and steady more than what you expected. “However...", you looked at Benedict and Colin, who had just appeared in your sight and were directed towards the gazebo, "...maybe a walk would be best suited for such matters"

Even with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Anthony nodded, standing up again and offering his hand to help you. You gently accepted and he pulled you up. Nonetheless your feet got caught in the cover, making you lose your balance and ending up in his arms.

"I-I'm terribly sorry" you muttered, raising your gaze to his and finding him already staring at you. The warmth of his hands, steadying you, got past your gloves terribly easily and you found that being there, pressed against his chest, so near to his heart, was the only place were you wanted to be.

You took a couple of steps back, smoothing your wrinkled dress and taking a deep breath in. His closeness was like opium to you: even the slightest hint and you lost your mind; and unfortunately right now, you had to be present.

He cleared his voice, handing politely his arm to you. "Shall we go?". You nodded joining your arms and moved with him on the beaten pathway.

A few minutes passed in complete silence, as you tried to find the right words to start. Apart from sporadic pairs walking the opposite direction, you were the only ones strolling in the park at that time of the day, when the sun shines so bright it could make the blood in your veins boil; only birds kept uninterrupted their concert.

"Are you upset because I didn’t honor you with my presence all morning?" guessed Anthony, raising his eyebrows. “Trust me, I would’ve gladly spent more time with you than with any of my other acquaintances”

You shook your head, a smile gracing your face. "Certainly not, my lord: your family was very kind to me in your absence" you assured him. "Besides I'm not upset... I just want answers to what I've heard"

"And what, pray tell, have you heard?"

You moved your gaze from his; there was no way to sweeten the pot. "I've heard that, in certain circles, you are considered a rake; and" you added, before he could stop you, "that you've been spending time with various women last season, opera singers from what these rumours told me"

"And you believe these rumours, miss Y/L/N?". His voice didn't show any emotions but his muscles were tense as an arp string.

"That is why I'm asking you, my lord. I wish to believe it a lie, but your actions yesterday, as appreciated, had boldness in them... quite like Sir Feversham's"

Anthony stopped in the middle of the path, his jaw clenched. "Don't compare him to me, I am nothing like him”. His dark eyes seemed coal ready to be set on fire. “I would've never forced you into anything-"

"I know". You squeezed gently his arm against your side. "I know that, Anthony. Nonetheless, I’ve been wondering since last night if you consider me just as one of those opera singers and you’ll leave me alone like you did to them: my honor undermined and a broken heart to fix..."

"Do you really think I would do something like that?"

You raised your eyes to meet his. The lump in your throat, seeing the hurt look on his face, triplicated. "Haven't you done it before?"

Anthony clenched his jaw again, avoiding your gaze. Many emotions crossed his eyes before he closed them for a moment. Then, after giving a quick look all around, he started guiding you towards an almost hidden path through the hedges.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked, confused and slightly frightened by the sudden change of course.

He glanced towards you with his lips curved. "You did want answers, didn't you?". When you nodded, Anthony slid his hand in yours. "Then there is absolutely no need to worry, miss Y/L/N, I can assure you that" he whispered, preceding you in that natural maze.

As you followed him, jumping over ponds of mud, protruding roots and avoiding overhanging branches, it felt for a moment like you were back in one of the fantasies you two came up with as kids, exploring the deep amazonian jungle in search of a lost civilisation or a hidden temple behind a waterfall; you couldn't believe they belonged to such a long time ago...

The hedges surrounding you ended abrubtly, opening on a clearing that looked like an illustration from a storybook: the grass, kept perfectly cut in the rest of the park, reached knee height there and, in between the stems, flowers popped out in the vivid green, their bright colours catching your eye.

However what left you mouth agape was the modest pavilion in the centre. Its classic columns, with ivy crawling around them, had almost invisible cracks on their surface, and the marble, if once polished, was now covered with a thick layer of dust and dead leaves. Still, even so neglected, its ruined beauty left you speechless.

"How... how did you manage to find this place?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers caressing the tall grass as you approached the pavilion.

"In the most common and simple way”. At your confused glance, he smiled mischievously. “Hiding from my mother"

“You even hid from your mother, my lord?” you smirked.

“Everything to escape her matchmaking schemes” Anthony laughed before a sad smile appeared on his lips. “Nevertheless, it was years ago, when I was still allowed to act as a foolish young man, from time to time”. He left your hand and started unbuttoning his tailcoat.

As he took it off to put it on the marble bench, your gaze wandered on his shoulders and down his arms, framed by his tight waistcoat and usually concealed under that thick layer of blue velvet.

"Shall we start?" he asked, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

You took a seat and noticed how Anthony was wringing his hands, his body again all tensed up. Without uttering a word - it was his time to speak - you took his hand in yours, stroking your gloved thumbs on his skin.

"I must say" he started, "that the market’s gossip is quite accurate... but still not enough to be a reliable source” - then, after a sigh - “because yes, I am a rake - or at least I can be consirered one - and yes, I spent most of last season at the opera house. However, unlike what those women told you, my only company was one beautiful and indipendent lady, whose name I’d rather keep unknown"

He looked at you, almost asking for your permission. "Of course, my lord, I understand". Anthony nodded thankfully before letting his tongue on the loose.

He told you everything you needed to know, his gaze fixed on nothing, eyes lost in memories that you could only try to picture in your head. Every emotion he’d felt in the past crossed his face as he spoke of every step of the affair, from their first meeting to their very last goodbye. You saw how difficult was for him to remember that latter part, even though months had passed since then. After all, no love can ever be truly forgotten.

"Looking back, I’ve realized only recently that she broke my heart just as much as I broke hers" he admitted, his gaze falling on your joined hands. “She deserved much better than the transitory pleasure I was able to give her... I still slightly regret what we could’ve been, but there’s no use in mourning the past”. He stroked gently the palm of your hand. “I’ve found the present to be an unexpected and more appreciated bearer of happiness”

You blushed as his eyes set on you, a welcome sincerity lighting them. However, there was still something, in a deep corner of your mind, that wouldn't let you enjoy the moment completely.

"Thank you for telling me all about it, Anthony" you said, watching him trace abstract figures on your hand. "But I do have one last question"

He moved your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on your covered wrist and lingering with his lips on that small spot. "You can ask me anything, Y/N"

After a deep breath, you fixed your eyes in his. "What am I to you?"

He furrowed his brows, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"I do believe you fancy me" you started, looking away and fidgeting your hands as you spoke, "but I can't quite understand if your intentions with me are honorable or if you're simply using my company to your likings"

Anthony shook his head. “That’s nonsense, I would never-”

"Then do you intend to propose to me?" you asked, a rush of boldness flowing in your veins. “You know me, more deeply than any man I’ve ever met, and I found myself drawn to you in a way I’ve never experienced before... and I believe you feel the same”. He stared at you in silence. "I thought you wanted to marry as soon as you found a suitable lady..." you added, his stillness making your heart ache. "Am I not enough to be your wife?"

"Don't". Anthony cupped your face, his hands warm on your skin. "Do not say something like that ever again. You are not only more than enough, but more than I could've ever hoped to find... your intelligence astounds me just as much as your beauty hypnotizes me and I do believe you shall become one of the most accomplished Viscountess of Bridgerton that ever walked this Earth"

As his words beat in your mind ritmically with the pounding of your heart, you held your breath. "...but?"

"But I've rushed things in the past and burned everything I'd built to the ground, myself included. I don't want to make any mistakes with you, and if that means doing things properly, then be it". He stroked your cheek gently and you unconsciously leaned in his touch. "I've lost you once and I surely shall not make the same mistake twice"

You smiled, tears menacing to roll down your cheeks at any moment.

"Don't cry" he whispered, leaving a light kiss on your forehead and you laughed. His lips were as soft as you pictured them in your dreams.

"Don't mind my wet eyes... I'm just- I've never felt this happy before"

He smiled, placing one hand on yours. "Let's hope this will never change then". You nodded, smiling even wider.

So, as the sun went down and the wind kept blowing, you stayed there, talking, laughing, making up for all the lost time, in that little clearing out of time, and you wished you could stay there forever...

“We should go now” Anthony got up from its place. “It’s getting dark”

Making your way back in the reality it felt like waking up from a long, sweet dream, one that makes you wish you could sleep forever.

Your carriage was already waiting you at the edge of the park. Anthony helped you get into it as the gentleman he was. “Goodnight, miss Y/L/N”

“Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton” you smiled down at him, your hand still in his. “And thank you for the wonderful day”

He smirked and kissed your knuckles lightly, lingering again on the same spot where he kissed you for the first time. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady. I shall see you soon”

“Of course” you whispered not capable of even breathing. Anthony smiled, letting go of your hand as a footboy closed the door of the carriage. Then the coachman incited the horses and you were off in the night.

Resting on the soft pillows inside, you sighed, your eyes fixed on the stars outside the window. “Until next time”

Tag list: @lady1505 @truly-insatiable @littlemissbridgerton @anthonybridgertonsmistress​ @chaoticgirl04 @xceafh @latekate1807 @peoniarose @bridg-09 @michael-loves-chickens​ @beckachicago3​ (tell me if you want to be added or removed💗)

[hacked-by-jake]

Hii, love! 💜

I hope you're fine and everything is ok ☺️.

I just saw your latest post and wanted to say that we will NEVER forget about you, NEVER!

I struggle with the exact same thing, then I think that maybe I can understand a bit what you mean, however I don't have as much followers as you, thus I shouldn't complain like this probably, I know 😅.

Most of the time I'm scared that if I don't post anything or I just answer to asks in a day, I'll loose every single person that follows my works and that people will forget about me.

Of course I'm not doing this message just to share my experience, but because I think that relating to something with someone might make us feel a little better and less alone, however I can be wrong and maybe this doesn't work with you, then I'm sorry 😕.

Btw what I wanted to say was that there really isn't a reason on this world why we should forget about the amazing person you are 💜.

I know that even though people will tell you this all the time, you'll probably still believe that we'll forget about you, because unfortunately it's a thought that makes you struggle a lot, I can understand it myself.

Maybe you can try to remember that whenever you post you always make everyone so happy since everyone is really interested.

I'm sure a lot of people can't wait for you to post something, because they care a lot about you and care a lot also about your opinion.

These people that care about you, care also about your health and you feeling well, then, if you want to take a break, you are really free to do it.

I know that you might feel guilty for doing that, I can perfectly understand it myself, but I think that people would really like to see a happy and relaxed hbj!

Also, other than people, you should do that for yourself, because you deserve it! 💜

You'd deserve it even if you didn't post anything for a month or even more!

I really hope this made you feel just a little better.

I know that it's really hard and some random words can't fix anything, but I just wanted to tell you that you're not alone!

We care about you, really 💜

Try to have a great evening, dear!

Lots of love 💜

Hey, dear!

Yes, I'm fine! Thank you so much for asking! I hope you're fine too!💜🌹

Omg! Wow! I’m really a bit speechless! You’re so cute! I can’t believe it! 🥺

Thank you so much for your really wonderful words! I honestly didn't expect it and I’m just touched!🥺😭💜

I really appreciate your effort and believe me when I say that it really helped me a lot and really made me feel better.🌹

Even though I’m sorry that you can understand this (no matter how many followers you have, it’s as hard as mine) it still calms me a bit that I’m not alone and you can understand that.💜

I can really understand what you said. Tumblr is kind of the bulk of my life and I love being here. It’s really a little hard then just take a break and not reply directly to all messages etc. You’re right, I always feel a little guilty when people have to wait because of me. 👉🏻👈🏻

I’m just so incredibly grateful for your sweet and uplifting words! When I saw it, it really took the worry away from me and I could better accept that it’s good to take a break.

And I can only give it back. We could never forget you. You enlighten fandom so much. Your drawings are beautiful and you are very talented. Any conversation with you is very fun and we could never forget that, none of us, I’m sure of that!

And thank you so much for thinking that way about me and my posts.🥺

I also care about each and every one of you and I very much hope that you are all well. You are all such great people and I am just so happy to be in this fandom. Without you, it just wouldn’t be nearly as great as it is now.💚🌹

And again, just thank you so much for taking the time to write it all. Sometimes I really can’t understand what I’ve done to deserve this, but I really appreciate it.

By the way, your wonderful and cute nature makes you even more unforgettable! 💜

You have improved my break and especially my day by 100 times and I just thank you for that.🥰

Thank you for everything! I will never forget this and always carry it in my heart!💚🥺

I hope your day will be as beautiful as you made mine! You deserve everything good in the world and I’m so glad you’re here with us!💜

Take care of yourself and stay healthy, dear! Lots of love and an explosion of hugs to you!💚💜🌹

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Come Over | Elijah Mikaelson

Hey Lovelies! This is my first post on this profile! If you're curious feel free to pop over to my other handle: @sweetpeasgirl where i write for riverdale! However this blog is for all fandoms! It's all very exciting and I am happy to take on a new project. Anyway this is my first time writing for Elijah/TVD/TO so I hope its good! Also my first smut oh no oh god. Lemme know what you think!

Description: Based on the song "Come Over" by Sam Hunt. Y/n finds out Elijah Mikaelson is a vampire in the worst way possible. She freaks out and runs. Elijah follows after. It comes to a crossroads at her apartment.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! NSFW, Smut (oral female receiving), 18+ (I feel obligated to say it ;) )

Word count: 3413

Tags: fluff, some angst, SMUT

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again

Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around

The clock on your nightstand reads 11:34. The remote control is heavy in your hand. Nothing on the TV is interesting to you even slightly right now. Your room is sweltering and dark. Your bed is a mess, the comforter crinkled and shoved to the foot. Messy beds are always more uncomfortable. Any day but today you would care.

You glance down at your phone, not surprised in the slightest to see another missed call. That makes 22. Almost a new record. Two more and he’ll start a new one. That’s just his type. Persistent. It’s why you fell in love with him. He didn’t give up. You sigh and block the call, placing the phone face down on the nightstand. Your whole body feels hot.

Clicking again on the remote, you come across a reality show. It's trashy, the accents are harsh, it screams “daddy’s money”. It’s perfect. Maybe it’ll be enough to take your mind off of the events of this evening. Off of him. The girl on the show runs into the arms of a handsome man. You turn the TV off almost as fast as you had turned it on.

You had been picturing tonight in your head for a week. The Mikaelson Ball. Dining and dancing and elegance. Nothing your usual life regularly allowed. It was supposed to be special. The invitation alone was magnificent enough to make you swoon. The dress had almost made you faint. The necklace did. It was all perfect. He was perfect. And then it wasn’t.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You forgot to turn it off. Or maybe you left it on purpose. Your head feels fuzzy, though, and you don’t want to think about it. You wish his face would get out of your mind. Your eyes drift to the fan above you and you try to count the blades as they go around and around. You lose track easily, and you don’t care. It doesn’t do anything to soothe your molten skin.

Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake

Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

You pick the phone up once more, ready to scream at it. Every part of you feels like it's on fire and seeing his name on the screen pushes you over the edge. You don’t know what you did to get tangled in all of this but you’re ready to claw your throat out. Instead, you throw the phone as hard as you can against the pile of comforters. It stops buzzing but your skin is still sticky. You feel sick to your stomach.

“Why did you pick me, why couldn’t it have been someone else,” your tone is harsh but it’s not like he can hear you, “it hurts Eli. Make it stop. Please!”

Your voice is barely a whisper and it turns to cries quickly as the anger dies out. All you can see, swirling around the depths of your mind, are his fangs. The way his brown eyes died to a blackness. The stark veins against his sculpted cheeks. He had looked every bit as beautiful as ever. Still elegant, still handsome. Still Elijah. But dark. Dangerous. That’s what scared you. Elijah was still Elijah when he was ripping a heart from a chest.

It felt like a blur when you saw it. One minute he had his hand on the small of your back. You had been taking a stroll in the garden. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Beautiful hedge walls and roses of all different colours and a magnolia tree like you had only ever imagined. The moon wasn’t quite full over your heads. He was finally about to kiss you, something you had been silently pleading for for months now. Before his lips could touch yours, though, there was a hand around your throat. It had squeezed to the point of you almost passing out before Elijah had time to rip you away from your attacker. You didn’t see him move, you just saw his hand break through the mans sternum and rip his beating heart out of his chest. As soon as you saw his face, his eyes, you bolted.

“I’m scared, Eli. I miss you. I’m scared that I miss you and a thousand other things. I need you.”

You look at the dress hanging on the back of your door. At one point it was a delicate, pale pink number. It had off the shoulder straps that, really, had no point but were beautiful. There was satin cream ribbon to lace up the back and the sweetest of sweetheart necklines. Now it was splattered in blood, the satin ribbons stained. One of the sleeves had ripped when you ran. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever owned and it was ruined in less than an hour. Fairytales were supposed to end at midnight, not nine o'clock.

“I wish you would come over.” You mean it.

You just want him to explain. To show up and sweep you off your feet and tell you that he won’t hurt you. You shouldn't even need the reassurance. You know him. That's your Elijah. Somewhere deep down you know that. But it's not making you any less afraid right now. He had been protecting you, but no one has ever ripped out a heart for you before. You’re allowed to be afraid of new things. You’re allowed to be afraid of things that are frightening. That’s what being human is. You still feel like a traitor, though, when you feel afraid of Elijah.

Your voice is silent in the darkness, “I wish you could hear me. Come over, Elijah.”

Your phone beeped. You pick it up in time to read the screen. Call ended.

I told you I wouldn't call, I told you I wouldn't care

But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere

Call ended. Call ended 12:43. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds. Elijah had been on the phone with you for almost thirteen minutes. Crap.

You think about how far away the Mikaelson mansion is from your apartment. Twenty minutes tops, and that’s your driving. Elijah’s driving? Ten, if you’re lucky. You could try to reason with yourself. Maybe he hadn't heard you. Maybe he doesn't want to see you. Maybe he hung up because he got tired of hearing you whine. You can’t help the dry laugh that falls from your lips. It’s Elijah. You probably only have five minutes now.

You jump to your feet and begin making your bed, your pulse thumping loud once more in your ears. He’s been in your apartment before, but that was when he was just Elijah. Not the Elijah with fangs and black eyes. Now he’s different. Mysterious. Who knows what he’s seen. What he’s done. You never thought your apparent was shabby by any means but would he? You know your life can’t compare to the wonders he’s most definitely seen.

You move to the kitchen, which is, by default, the living room as well, and begin picking up mugs and newspapers and anything else out of order that you can see. You sneak a quick glance out your kitchen window, into the parking lot below, just in time to see a sleek black car speed into one of the only available spots left. You can hear the engine purr from your fourth floor apartment. You know exactly whose car that is and thus aren't surprised when Elijah Mikaelson steps out from the drivers side and slams the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. You gasp at the bang the metal makes and his head whips up, his eyes locking with yours from the ground.

You close your eyes for just a second. There's no way he could have heard that. When you look back to the ground, he’s gone. Before you can sigh there's a knock at the door.

I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder

Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You move to the door but you don’t open it. You place your palm on the wood trim and try to picture the man on the other side. He’ll look like Elijah. He’ll smell like Elijah and probably talk like Elijah, too. But is he still the same Elijah?

“Y/n, I know you’re there, open the door. Please?” His voice sounds the same, his accent penetrating the barrier between you and tickling your ears.

“Elijah,” your voice is but a whisper and you know you should be the only one who can hear it, “I’m scared.”

“I know, love, that’s ok. I won’t hurt you, though, and I need you to open the door. I just- I need to see you,” his voice cracks, just barely but it’s there.

That’s all it takes for you to slide the lock and open the door. In front of you, for the second time tonight, is a man you don’t recognize. He doesn’t have fangs and his eyes are his usual deep brown but they look shattered. His hair, usually styled to perfection, is a mess, like he had been running his hands through it for the past few hours. His suit jacket is gone, leaving him in slacks and the dress shirt he had been wearing at the ball, only now it’s untucked and the sleeves are rolled haphazardly up his arms. Elijah Mikaleson looks disheveled and you’re terrified again because this Elijah, hurt and upset, looks further from himself than the Elijah from the garden.

“Eli-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice shakes as he stands in your doorway, “please let me explain, baby.”

You swallow at his words. Baby. That's new.

“Eli, you know you can come in whenever you want,” your eyes look to the ground, feigning interest in the knots of your hardwood floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” you can feel his eyes burning into your lowered head, “I need to hear that you want me to come in, Y/n.”

This time it’s your voice that breaks, “of course I want you to come in Elijah.”

He sighs and steps over the threshold, standing mere feet away from you. You feel so small next to him in nothing but a pair of plaid sleep shorts and plain tank top. Your bare feet, for the first time since getting home, are cool against the floor.

He reaches to touch you and you flinch away, “baby, god, no. Please don’t be afraid.”

Your chest aches at the scared look in his eyes and all you want to do is run into his arms but you need answers.

“What happened back there, Elijah?” You feel pathetic at how quiet your voice still is.

“He wanted to hurt me, torture me. And he knew he couldn't. So he went for you, because he knew I would retaliate,” his eyes land on yours and you can see that he still wants to rip that man limb from limb, “he was a werewolf, Y/n. He wanted you dead, I had to do it.”

He sinks to his knees, his voice dropping lower and lower until the last words are just whispers. His words ring in your ears again. Werewolf. A werewolf wanted you dead. You felt faint.

“Why was a,” you say the word carefully, “werewolf trying to hurt you?”

“Because I'm a vampire, Y/n,” his voice breaks fully this time.

You don’t know what to do. Not with the rapid beating of your heart nor the new information you’ve just acquired and especially not with the crying Mikaelson on his knees in your hallway. Your Elijah, the man who pulls your chair out at restaurants and opens your doors and always has a hand on you when you’re around his brothers, is a vampire. You’re not even sure what that means, there are so many questions running through your mind. You want to ask each and every one of them but, seeing the man in front of you, somehow now doesn’t feel like the right time.

Your heart flutters looking at Elijah. His hands are in his hair again, pulling desperately on the strands. Your heart falls into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight. How can you be afraid of someone being so openly vulnerable to you. No man has ever gotten on his knees for you. No one has ever begged on their knees for you. It’s breathtaking, all you need to push yourself into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You should be terrified of me y/n,” he chokes into your chest, “I’m not good for you. I'm a monster, baby.”

His words shred at your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, smoothing the soft locks beneath your fingers.

“No you’re not. You're still my Elijah.”

His head lifts from your chest and he captures your eyes with his serious ones. He looks awestruck.

“Your Elijah?” His accent is even thicker with all the emotion.

You smile for the first time in many hours, “of course, Eli.”

He sweeps you up and into his arms so quickly you get dizzy. Before you know what’s happened, he has you sat on your kitchen island and he’s standing between your legs. Your arms are still clinging tight to his neck while his hands hang dangerously low on your hips.

“And you’re mine, Y/n.”

His words makes your body sing, “All yours.”

He closes his eyes, his hands tightening deliciously on your hips, “say it again. Please, baby.”

“I’m yours Elijah. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash hungrily onto yours. He wraps his arms around your lower back and you tangle your legs around his waist to avoid falling off the countertop. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down harshly before soothing the sting with his tongue. You're enamoured with this side of Elijah. You’ve seen his gentleman side, it was magnificent, but this side of him? It was everything you didn't know you needed.

He pulls back, only putting a fraction of space between your bodies but it feels like too much, “please don’t run from me again.”

Your lips brush his when you speak, “Never, Eli.”

He pulls your mouth back to his, a hand tangled in your hair tugging gently at the roots. You can’t but moan against his lips and squeeze your legs around his waist. You grab blindly at his shirt, trying desperately to undo the buttons. Your fingers fumble and he chuckles into your mouth. He releases you to pull his shirt off, dropping it mindlessly on the floor, his lips never leaving yours.

His chest is sculpted like the finest marble and you can’t resist running your hands over his skin. He feels strong under your fingertips. He lets out a groan as you slide them back to his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His lips move over your jaw, down your neck, kissing and sucking a trail to your throat.

His hands grip the edge of your tank top bunching the material in his fists, “may I?”

Always the gentleman.

You nod your head before the words can leave your mouth, “please.”

He smirks, his eyes shining, as he begins pulling the tank top tantalizingly slow up your chest. You raise your arms over your head with his movements, lowering them back to his torso when he drops your shirt with his. His chocolate eyes meet yours again, seeking permission. You can’t fight the small smile as you nod. His smile that greets yours is breathtaking.

His eyes flick down, taking in your bare chest like a child in a candy store. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, much like he did to yours only moments ago. His hands slide up the curve of your waist, trailing a new kind of fire wherever he touches. His thumbs graze the sides of your breasts and you just barely stop the moan, closing your eyes to regain the little control you have left.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re stunning Y/n. Absolutely beautiful.”

Before you can process it, his mouth is around your breast, pulling your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. It sends a spark of electricity to the deepest part of your stomach, building an ache that you’ve felt before but stronger. Blinding. It’s white hot. You don’t try to stop the moans, you don’t want to. His tongue swirls around your breast, teasingly slow, making you feel every little movement. It’s dangerously addictive.

“Elijah,” you breath his name like oxygen.

His lips let you go, moving down your chest, trailing kisses down your abdomen, pulling praises from your lips as he goes. His eyes find yours when he sinks to his knees for the second time tonight. His hands grasp your shorts, covering your hips easily. You’re a wanton mess in front of him, practically fully undone from the simplest of touches.

“What do you want me to do, baby, you have to tell me what you want.” It's good to know he’s breathless too.

“Eli, I-” you moan as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking gently at the skin, his eyes still locked on yours, “I want you.”

He pulls his lips back, “you want me to do what, baby?”

You groan at the devilish smirk on his handsome face, “I want you to kiss me!”

“As you wish.”

He pulls your shorts off first, slowly dragging them down your legs, kissing all the way down and back up again. When you're left in nothing but your panties he presses the first kiss to you. It’s hot and sends shocks throughout your entire body.

“More, now. Please, Elijah.”

He chuckles but does as told, pulling the remaining material down your legs before hooking your legs over his muscular shoulders. He wastes no time attaching his lips to your sex, sucking delightfully. He swirls his tongue over your clit, stoking the fire building in your stomach. He drags his tongue down your slit for what feels like an eternity before he plunges into you. You throw your head back and close your eyes, mumbling praises into oblivion. You can feel his eyes on you, soaking up every inch of you.

Your hands find his hair again, not seeming to want to be apart from him, “god.”

“That's not my name, baby,” he mumbles against you, stopping his ministrations.

You open your eyes and lock them with his waiting ones, drawing his name out in your best attempt at being seductive, “Elijah.”

His eyes darken but this time you aren't scared. No, this time his eyes make him look dominant. Sexy. His tongue attacks your clit again only this time faster and hungrier. It makes the fire in your stomach white hot. He’s unrelenting, bringing you closer to the edge with every pass of his tongue. He's pouring everything he has into pleasuring you and you can feel it, literally. You squeeze your thighs around him tighter, ready to explode

“Come for me, baby.”

With that you fall into something you’ve heard about but never thought possible. All you can see, all you can feel, is Elijah. He consumes all of your senses as you fall apart, over and over again, under his touch. In the midst of falling apart you catch Elijah’s eyes and fall all over again. He looks like he’s in pure bliss watching you come undone because of him. You know in all your falling you murmur his name more than once. You know that he loves it.

As you come down from your high, you go to unwrap your legs from his neck, only to have him wrap you around his waist and pick you up. You can’t help but giggle at his determined look.

When he starts walking toward your bedroom you ask, “what’s on your mind, Eli?”

“Round two,” you giggle again when he kisses your forehead.

“I'm glad you came over, Elijah.”